


Abomination

by benedictcumberlongpond



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-07
Updated: 2013-07-07
Packaged: 2017-12-18 00:17:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/873541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/benedictcumberlongpond/pseuds/benedictcumberlongpond
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Coda to 99 Problems because the way Cas acts towards Sam in that episode makes all of my Sastiel emotions implode violently.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Abomination

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings for m/m sexual situations and lots of internal monologues.

Castiel could reflect in his prayers, later on, that loving Dean was a natural thing – something that was bound to occur sooner or later. He had pieced that man back together, drawn him from Hell, seen the good that he was determined to do. 

It was basically a surety that at one point or another, Castiel would be able to feel that platonic brand of love that angels had for their brothers and for their father.   
Him finding out this information had given him a kind of warm, settled weight in his chest that made his vessel’s lips quirk into a smile whenever he thought about it. 

And then there was Sam. 

Castiel had seen the extent of Dean’s devotion to his younger brother, that alone should have been enough to justify his love for the abomination. 

But that’s what he was – an abomination. Full of demon blood and barely-contained-rage, and a roiling self hatred, so much self doubt, a visceral need for someone to love him complemented by an intense desire to be left alone. 

He was a conflict, a boiling black mass of writhing emotions and confusing colors. And faith. 

God, his faith was blinding. 

His faith in Dean, in Castiel, in God, in his cause. Brief flashes of light, brighter than the angry shadows of his vices, shone out whenever Cas appeared. Sam’s body was like his soul, all opposites. His soulful eyes, that soft hair, the almost child-like emotional obviousness of his expressions offset by the hard lines of his body, all jutting muscle and firmness. 

That was confusing as well, because the brand of love Cas felt for Sam was different. It was new and forbidden, some kind of want to show Sam how much he was loved and how much capacity he had for love, as well as the feeling Sam gave him – like he had already fallen, like he was experiencing human desire, and God, sometimes he _wanted_.   
Giving in to other desires made him able to cope with that, and upon finding the dark building that proclaimed whiskey was within – he entered, thinking to himself that if this was human emotion, that falling was a more painful experience than he could ever envisage. 

xXx

“I got your message,” Cas mumbled, leaning against the wall, feeling alcohol pumping around his body, sensing Sam so close it was… infuriating. He had a sudden compulsion to insult Sam, and he briefly considered what might be an insult in this context. “It was long – your message.” Cas said, but Sam seemed pretty unphased. “And I found the sound of your voice grating.” 

“What’s wrong with you, are you drunk?” There was Sam’s reply in his decidedly not-irritating voice, infinitely worried. 

“No,” Cas said quickly, wanting to appease him, noticing how worried he looked and sighing to amend his answer. “Yes.” 

“What the hell happened to you?” Sam asked

_‘You did.’_ Cas wanted to reply, instead he sighed again. 

“I found a liquor store.” 

“And?”

“I drank it. Why’d you call me?” he blinked up at Sam, stumbling forward and scowling when Sam’s arms immediately appeared to help him. 

How was someone so abominable so good. 

“Are you ok?” Sam was saying, and then Cas swayed towards him, coming as close as he dared, wondering what he was doing. 

His mouth was so close to that neck, and Sam appeared to have noticed. His body had tensed, something dark red had made itself known amongst the shadows and lights of his soul. Cas realised he had left the silence a beat too long and quickly said the first thing that came to his mind, something Uriel used to say to him. 

“Don’t ask stupid questions,” his voice didn’t carry the same authority, it seemed more… Cas ignored it, swayed backwards, getting away from Sam and his personal space. “Tell me what you need.” 

Sam seemed to falter, his throat moving erratically. Then he composed himself and launched into conversation. 

xXx

It was later, when Sam and Dean had vacated the town and found themselves once again on the road. When they had found a motel, Dean had found a bar and with a lewd wink in his brother’s direction, suggested he didn’t _‘wait up’_. This was when Sam usually found himself praying. 

Castiel knew this, because he had inadvertedly become the Winchester’s guardian, and prayers were kind of… filtered through him. 

He always began the same way, getting on his knees, clasping his palms together, and quietly muttering a Hail Mary in a rumbling, sincere kind of way. 

For some reason, it made Castiel’s pulse jump. 

He listened in, always. Sometimes it was the only thing that gave him comfort, Sam’s voice in the back of his mind as he searched for God, looking across the rolling plains of the Sahara with the younger Winchester’s voice in his head. 

_‘Hail Mary,’_ Castiel was walking towards another angel, his brother, another one who had spent a long time on Earth. 

_‘Full of grace, the Lord is with you.’_

“Hello, brother.” He greeted

“Castiel.” The other angel replied. 

_‘Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb, Jesus.’_

“I was told you knew things,” Castiel offered. “About our father.” 

_‘Holy Mary, mother of God,’_

The angel gave a scoff. “If you’re interested on what he did millions of years ago. I haven’t heard from our father in years, Castiel.” 

_‘Pray for us sinners now, and at the hour of our death. Amen.’_

“That is… unfortunate.” Cas felt his chest drop. Another lead that led nowhere. 

_‘Hey, um, God. It’s Sam Winchester.’_

Castiel wanted to scream at Sam to shut up, because God wasn’t listening. No one was listening. 

_‘I’d like to pray for my friend Cas,’_

Castiel stopped, his rage subduing itself immediately, and without a second thought he felt himself flying to be by Sam’s side. Invisible, quiet, mouth slightly open as he surveyed him. 

Sam was kneeling in his jeans, plain button down shirt on, hands steepled together and resting against his forehead. 

“I think he’s having a hard time, trying to find you. And… uh, I’m not sure how to help him.” Sam said, looking awkward. “And I know that he’s closer friends with Dean, I guess, and I know that he doesn’t have any… reason to really… like me, I guess. I mean, I know I’m kind of an…” he swallowed against the word he was about to say. “Abomination.” He shifted his shoulders. 

“And I know that I don’t really deserve to have… an angel, looking over me or anything. I just want Cas to be ok.” 

“Oh, Sam.” Cas whispered, eyebrows drawing together. He remembered his father, telling them to look after humans and care for them, to love them, even above himself. How could what he had done to Sam be described as love? 

“And I’m sorry for… thinking inappropriate thoughts and stuff. I don’t know what your stance is on… I don’t even know what that sexuality would be called. Celestialsexuality? Angelsexuality? Look, the point is, I will be doing my best to… not have those feelings.” 

“Sam?” Cas said then, frowning. 

“I’ll do my best to not pray that he would appear for me, naked. Let me teach him things about his vessel. Let me show him how good it could feel.” Sam was breathing slightly heavier, and Cas found parts of him responding that he hadn’t felt since the pizza man. 

“Let him know that I’ve been aware he’s invisible in the room and has been for the last three minutes or so.” Sam smirked, opening one eye. “And Lord, please help him to understand that it is rude to eavesdrop.” 

“Sam-” Cas started, becoming visible.

“Sh,” Sam scolded, closing his eyes again. “I pray for Dean, for Bobby, for all the other hunters. I pray Jess is enjoying heaven, and mum, and dad, and everyone who we have failed to save. Amen.” 

Cas’ throat felt blocked, a hundred times more nervous than Sam looked as he stood slowly, turning. 

“Sorry man, couldn’t resist.” He said with a shrug. Cas gazed back at him, the words he had just said ricocheting around his mind. 

“It is…” Cas frowned. Stopped talking. Awkwardly looked at his feet.

“Um, Dean isn’t here if you were wanting to see him.” Sam said with a shrug. 

“No, I came for…” He dropped off again and Sam offered a hopeful smile. 

“Me?” 

“Yes.” 

“What did you want in particular?” Sam asked easily, sitting down on the bed. 

“I want…” Cas searched around his mind for some excuse, something he could say that would alleviate his awkwardness. His brain was unhelpfully quiet, occasionally piping up with ‘let me teach him things about his vessel’. 

“What did you mean? Teach me about… my vessel?” Cas asked, blurting, almost immediately feeling his face heat. 

“Hey, the joke was bad taste,” Sam held his hands up in a surrendering gesture. “I’m sorry.” 

“I don’t understand.” 

Sam considered him from underneath heavy lashes, the smile faltering. 

“It was uh…” he cleared his throat. “I was making a… um… a _sex_ joke, Castiel.” Sam offered, trying for another smile but settling on a grimace instead. 

“Oh,” Cas managed. His urge to fly away was strong, almost pulling. “Oh.” He said again. 

“Sorry,” Sam repeated

“No, it’s…” Cas dropped off. 

There was a beat of silence, broken by a huff of laughter from Sam. 

“So this is awkward.” He said, grinning so widely that his dimples flashed, and Cas’ gut clenched – somehow unable to smile back. 

“Could you-” Cas frowned, his mouth seeming to work independent of his body. 

“Could I do what, Cas?” Sam asked hopefully. 

“Teach me?” Cas finally said, his mouth feeling dry. 

Sam’s breath hitched and he stood up slowly, like he was trying to placate a wild animal. 

“You want me to-”

“Yes.” Cas hissed out a response, cutting off whatever Sam had been about to ask and effectively opening some kind of flood gate, because in the next second, Sam was right in front of him, so close that he was breathing the same air. 

“Are you sure?” Sam asked, one hand reaching up to touch the side of Cas’ cheek, and Cas knew what came next so he decided to do it himself 

Surging to his toes, he crashed their lips together. 

Sam let out a muffled kind of groan, controlling the kiss immediately, pressing a hand into the side of Cas’ neck and gently prying his lips open against his own, touching the smooth glide of tongue to the harshness of Cas’ dry lips. 

When Cas touched his own tongue to Sam’s he felt the touch right down to his stomach, and he immediately amplified it, sucking Sam’s tongue into his mouth and nipping lightly against his lips. 

Sam was pressing him tighter, one hand hooked around his waist pulling his chest closer, tilting his head, moaning encouragingly when Cas’ hand found purchase in his hair and tugged deliciously. 

Cas felt the need for more, the undying knowledge that he somehow wanted to keep going in this direction but not entirely sure how to go about it. 

“Sam,” he managed to whine when Sam’s lips moved down to his neck, licking and nipping until he came to the tie, tugging it off and beginning to undo the buttons of his shirt, kissing his collarbones. He let out an insistent whine when Sam’s fingers pushed backwards against his shoulders, divesting him of jacket and shirt at the same time. His lips moved downwards, flicking against his nipples and pulling a surprised whine from kiss-swollen lips. 

“Is it not customary to complete the act of copulation in the bed?” Cas managed to gasp out when Sam’s large hand pressed insistently against his erection. 

Sam muffled a laugh against his stomach, kissing carefully against his ribs and nodding. 

“Come on, then.” He said, tugging at Cas’ hand until he allowed himself to be led to the bed, sitting down carefully and beginning to unbutton Sam’s shirt. 

Sam allowed it, pushed it off his shoulders. Cas was looking though, staring at the lines of hard muscle and feeling an overwhelming urge to _touch._

Then he remembered he was allowed. 

With a low groan, he pulled Sam down onto him, kissing against his mouth and pressing fingers across abdominals and pectorals, pushing hands against the ribs that he had marked, around to the strong back that was shaking slightly with the exertion of holding himself over Castiel. 

Cas licked into his mouth, pulling Sam harder against him, feeling their erections brush against each other and moaning unexpectedly, stilling with shock. 

Sam let out a low chuckle, grinding himself downwards and forcing a long whine from Cas, who bucked up against him, already feeling like he had grasped the concept Sam was trying to teach him. 

“Sam,” Cas whispered again, and Sam nodded quietly in some kind of agreement, sitting up and beginning to unbutton Cas’ pants, pulling them off. Cas wanted to do the same for him, fingers scrambling against Sam’s jeans so that when they both pulled, they both let out the same relieved noise. 

Not waiting to be prompted, Cas tugged at Sam’s underpants, divesting him completely so he was left naked, beautiful, tanned, all _Sam_ and _gorgeous_ and it took his breath away. 

“Sam Winchester,” Cas told him earnestly, pulling him close again, letting Sam take off his own boxers. “You are no abomination.” 

“Cas,” Sam replied, letting their bodies slot together and feeling the rumbling heat of a groan when their slick cocks pressed together. Cas flipped them, pushing Sam into the bed, rubbing against him. 

“Sam, you are a child of God.” He whispered, thrusting downwards, closing his eyes against the onslaught of sensation. “And you are beautiful,”

“Cas,” His voice was hitched, his thumbs pressing into Cas’ hipbones as he pressed upwards, desperately seeking friction and making Castiel’s eyes snap open so he could watch as their engorged cocks slid together in hurried movements from the snap of his hips. 

Cas felt like he was understanding the love of God, the insistent pressure of something building, the loving sensation making his skin prickle as he leaned over Sam on his elbows, caging his head and pressing kisses along his jaw bone. He felt like he could forgive his brothers for falling into temptation if this was what it felt like. 

Sam’s large hand was encompassing them, then. It was tugging, pulling them together and thrusting gently so the sensation in Cas’ abdomen was amplified yet again. 

Cas dropped his forehead to Sam’s, staring at those eyes as he moved his hips, letting Sam pull him closer until it felt like he was going to fall off the edge of something

“Sam,” Cas could hear how wrecked he sounded, how _animalistic_ it felt to be rutting – the slick slide of their bodies, the press of arousal to the point of pain making him release noises that came out as whimpers. 

Sam was letting out a constant stream of _Cas, Cas, Cas,_ which was being reflected back at him, Cas breathing the air back into his mouth with his mantra of _yes, yes, yes._

Then a new feeling took him, pure love and ecstasy wrecking his body with tremors, making him shudder and shout, feeling a release of something wet and hot and _yes_.

He felt like he had reached God, like maybe all of this was worth it to see Sam underneath him, eyes intent on his as he thrusted a few more times and then came as well, adding to the mess between them, a silent scream escaping his mouth as he finished and pulled Cas tight against him. 

It was wonderful, that tired-but-awake feeling of afterglow, pressing his face against the hard plane of Sam’s shoulder, feeling boneless. 

“Let me – I’ll get a cloth or something.” Sam said, his voice sounding sleepy, pressing carefully against Cas. 

“I got it,” Cas replied, banishing the mess with a wave of his hand and another insistent nuzzle into Sam’s bare chest. 

“Handy,” Sam offered, earning a huff from Castiel. “So that was… what was that?” 

Cas shrugged. “I got your prayer.” 

“Was my voice grating?” 

Cas shifted onto his elbows, considering Sam through slitted eyes. 

“Your Hail Mary would have been nicer with the archaic intonations,” Cas said blandly, laying back down. “But your voice was fine.”

“I’ll make sure to practice my thee’s and thou’s for next time then.” Sam said, immediately holding his breath as soon as the sentence had come out, the light of his soul dimming under the flush of embarrassment. 

“See that you do.” Cas said, and the flare of his soul was enough to make him realize that this, ultimately, was inevitable. As he bowed his head to pray, he began to consider his love for the Winchesters, his never ending bond to the brothers, and the feeling that perhaps falling would be okay – after all, he had a six ft four abomination to catch him.


End file.
